stone men, Jeni Curtis, Sudden Valley Press, June 2023.

‘the worm’s turn’, ‘apples’, ‘Pandora’, ‘chicken’ and ‘birds nesting’

Jeni Curtis is an Ōtautahi/Christchurch writer who has published in various publications in New Zealand and overseas. She has had poems regularly commended in the NZPS poetry competition, and her poem “come autumn” was shortlisted for the Pushcart Prize 2019. She was shortlisted for the Heritage New Zealand/SIWA poetry prize in 2020 and first equal in 2021. Her poem “talking of goldfish” was put to music by composer Janet Jennings as part of Jenny Wollerman’s work 21×21. She was runner up in the John O’Connor best first manuscript award 2022.  Her collection of poetry, stone men, was published by Sudden Valley Press, June 2023.

Sudden Valley Press page

Ill and Travelling

Haven’t worn shoes for two weeks until today,
and three quarters of my meals have been muesli.
The German man in the seat next to me is watching
Bible YouTube. Kid-vids, too—not prosperity gospel
self-help flimflam or anything to do with sin-scouring
or tongue-lolling, but cartoons of lions and coats
and loaves and fiery chariots. Maybe he’s sick as well
and can’t concentrate. He’s been an excellent seatmate.
You know the type: so nice he’d sooner be impaled
with umbrellas than forget to say thank you. Thank you
for the elbow room, fella. We’re like a matching pair.
16A and 16B are moving fast! Now there’s a video of
the ark filling up with funny long-limbed creatures:
flamingos, sea spiders, giraffes.

Erik Kennedy

Erik Kennedy (he/him) is the author of the poetry collections Another Beautiful Day Indoors (2022) and There’s No Place Like the Internet in Springtime (2018), both with Te Herenga Waka University Press, and he co-edited No Other Place to Stand, a book of climate change poetry from Aotearoa and the Pacific (Auckland University Press, 2022). He lives in Ōtautahi Christchurch.

Spring

the sky is open for interpretation
light when you wake
light when you see a single daffodil

there’s a curious river
between crisp air and new asparagus
it’s a kitchen carpet of day dream

the blue sky is a safety hatch
we are tuning into rhyme
we are walking into rhythm

this poem doesn’t have
a political bone in its body
but it has a hope placard

Paula Green